The Night Eternal

by Guillermo Del Toro

  “So I brought this on myself.” Nora slipped her hand underneath Fet’s. “My punishment was a just punishment—in your eyes.”

  Fet shuddered at the touch of her hand. And as her fingers wrapped around his thick digits, he felt as if he could cry. Eph saw the gesture—small under any other circumstances—as an eloquent public expression of the end of his and Nora’s relationship.

  “Nonsense,” Eph said. “That’s not what I meant.”

  “That is what you are implying.”

  “What I am implying—”

  “You know what, Eph? It fits your pattern.” Fet squeezed her hand to slow her down, but she blew past that stop sign. “You’re always showing up just after the fact. And by ‘showing up,’ I mean ‘getting it.’ You finally figured out how much you loved Kelly … after the breakup. You realized how important being an involved father was … after you weren’t living with Zack anymore. Okay? And now … I think maybe you’re going to start realizing how much you needed me. ’Cause you don’t have me anymore.” It shocked her to hear herself saying these things out loud, in front of the others—but there it was. “You’re always just a little too late. You’ve spent half your life battling regrets. Making up for the past rather than getting it done in the present. I think the worst thing that ever happened to you was all your early success. The ‘young genius’ tag. You think if you work hard enough, you can fix the precious things you’ve broken—rather than being careful with them in the first place.” She was slowing down now, feeling Fet pulling her back—but her tears were flowing, her voice hoarse and full of pain. “If there’s one thing you should have learned since this terrible thing started, it’s that nothing is guaranteed. Nothing. Especially other human beings …”

  Eph remained still across the room. Pinned to the floor, actually. So still that Nora wasn’t sure her words had gotten through to him. Until, after an appropriate amount of silence, when what Nora said appeared to be the last word, Eph stood off the wall and slowly walked out the door.

  Eph walked the ancient corridor system, feeling numb. His feet made no impact upon the floor.

  Twin impulses had torn at him in there. At first, he wanted to remind Nora how many times her mother had nearly gotten them captured or turned. How badly Mrs. Martinez’s dementia had slowed all of them down over the past many months. Evidently, it didn’t matter now that Nora had, numerous times, directly expressed her wish that her mother be taken from them. No. Everything that went wrong was Eph’s fault.

  Second, he was stunned to see how close she seemed to Fet now. If anything, her abduction and ultimate rescue had brought them closer together. Had strengthened their new bond. This twisted most sharply in his side, because he had seen saving Nora as a dry run for saving Zack, but all it had done was expose his deepest fear: that he might save Zack and still find him changed forever. Lost to Eph—forever.

  Part of him said it was already much too late. That part of him was the depressive part, the part he tried to stave off constantly. The part he medicated with pills. He felt around for the pack on his back and unzipped the small compartment meant for keys or loose change. His last Vicodin. He placed it on his tongue and then held it there as he walked, waiting to work up enough saliva to swallow it.

  Eph conjured up the video image of the Master overlooking its legion in Central Park, standing high upon Belvedere Castle with Kelly and Zack at its side. This green-tinted image haunted him, ate at him as he kept walking, only half-aware of his direction.

  I knew you would return.

  Kelly’s voice and the words were like a shot of adrenaline, straight to his heart. Eph turned into a familiar-looking corridor and found the door, heavy wood and iron-hinged, not locked.

  Inside the asylum chamber, in the center of the corner cage, stood the vampire that was once Gus’s mother. The dented motorcycle helmet tilted ever so slightly, acknowledging Eph’s entrance. Her arms remained bound behind her back.

  Eph approached the cage door. The iron bars were spaced six inches apart. Vinyl-sleeved, braided steel-cable bicycle locks secured the door at the top, bottom, and through the old padlock clasp in the middle.

  Eph waited for Kelly’s voice. The creature stood still, its helmet steady—perhaps it was expecting its daily blood feed. He wanted to hear her. Eph grew frustrated and stepped back, looking around the room.

  On the rear wall, hanging from a rusty nail, was a small ring containing a single, silver key.

  He retrieved the key, bringing it to the cell door. No movement from the creature. He fit the key into the top lock and it opened. Then the bottom, and then the middle lock. Still no indication of awareness from the vampire that was Gus’s mother. Eph unwound the cables from the iron bars and slowly pulled open the door.

  The door scraped against its frame, but the hinges were oiled. Eph pulled the door wide and stood in the opening.

  The vampire did not move from her spot in the center of the cell.

  You can never go down / can never go down …

  Eph drew his sword and stepped inside. Closer now, he saw his dim reflection in the black-tinted face shield, his sword low at his side.

  The creature’s silence pulled him nearer to his reflection.

  He waited. A vampiric hum in his head, but slight.

  This thing was reading him.

  You have lost another. Now you have no one. No one but me.

  Eph saw his expressionless face reflected in the visor. “I know who you are,” he said.

  Who am I?

  “You have Kelly’s voice. But these are the Master’s words.”

  You came to me. You came to listen.

  “I don’t know why I came.”

  You came to hear your wife’s voice again. It is as much a narcotic as those pills you take. You really need it. You really miss it. Don’t you?

  Eph did not ask how the Master knew about that. He only knew that he had to be on his guard at all times—even mentally.

  You want to come home. To return home.

  “Home? Meaning, to you? To the disembodied voice of my former wife? Never.”

  Now it is time to listen. Now is not the time to be obstinate. Now is the time to open your mind.

  Eph said nothing.

  I can give you back your boy. And I can give you back your wife. You can release her. Start anew with Zack by your side.

  Eph held his breath in his mouth before exhaling, hoping to slow his rising heart rate. The Master knew how desperate Eph was for Zack’s release and return, but it was important to Eph that he not appear desperate.

  He is unturned, and will remain that way, a lesser being, as you wish.

  And then, out of his mouth came the words he never thought he would utter: “What is it you want in return?”

  The book. The Lumen. And your partners. Including the Born.

  “The what?”

  Mr. Quinlan, I think you call him.

  Eph frowned at his reflection in the helmet visor. “I can’t do that.”

  Certainly you can.

  “I won’t do that.”

  Certainly you will.

  Eph closed his eyes and tried to clear his head, reopening them a moment later. “And if I refuse?”

  I will proceed as planned. The transformation of your boy will happen immediately.

  “Transformation?” Eph trembled, sickened, but fought to suppress his emotions. “What does that mean?”

  Submit while you still have something with which to bargain. Give yourself to me in your son’s stead. Get the book and bring it to me. I will take the information contained in the book … and the information contained in your mind. I will know all. You can even return the book. No one will know.

  “You would give Zack to me?”

  I will give him his freedom. The freedom to be a weak human, just like his father.

  Eph tried to hold back. He knew better than to allow himself to be drawn into this conversation, to be lulled into an exchange with the monste
r. The Master continued to poke around his mind, looking for a way in.

  “Your word means nothing.”

  You are correct, in that I have no moral code. There is nothing to compel me to uphold my end of the bargain. But you might consider the fact that I keep my word more often than not.

  Eph stared at his reflection. He fought, relying on his own moral code. And yet … Eph was indeed tempted. A straight-up trade—his soul for Zack’s—was one he would make in a minute. The thought of Zack falling prey to this monster—either as a vampire or as an acolyte—was so abhorrent, Eph would have agreed to nearly anything.

  But the price was far greater than his own tarnished soul. It meant the souls of the others as well. And the fate, more or less, of the entire human race, in that Eph’s capitulation would give the Master final and lasting stewardship of the planet.

  Could he trade Zack for everything? Could his decision be the right one? One he wouldn’t look back at with the greatest regret?

  “Even if I were to consider this,” said Eph, talking as much to his reflected self as he was to the Master, “there is one problem. I don’t know the location of the book.”

  You see? They are keeping it from you. They don’t trust you.

  Eph saw that the Master was right. “I know they don’t. Not anymore.”

  Because it would be safer for you to know where it was, as a fail-safe.

  “There is a transcription—some notes I have seen. Good ones. I can deliver you a copy.”

  Yes. Very good. And I will deliver to you a copy of your boy. Would you like that? I require possession of the original. There is no substitute. You must find out its location from the exterminator.

  Eph suppressed his alarm at the Master knowing about Fet. Did the Master get it from Eph’s mind? Was he raiding Eph’s knowledge as they spoke here?

  No. Setrakian. The Master must have turned him before the old man destroyed himself. The Master had seized all of Setrakian’s knowledge just as he now wanted to seize all of Eph’s: through possession.

  You have proven yourself quite resourceful, Goodweather. I am confident you can find the Lumen.

  “I haven’t agreed to anything yet.”

  Haven’t you? I can tell you now that you will have some assistance in this endeavor. An ally. One among your inner circle. Not physically turned—no. Only sympathetically. A traitor.

  Eph did not believe this. “Now I know that you are lying.”

  Do you? Tell me this. How would this lie profit me?

  “… By stirring up discontent.”

  There is already plenty of that.

  Eph thought about it. It seemed true: he could find no advantage for the Master in lying.

  There is one among you who will betray you all.

  A turncoat? Had another one of them been co-opted? And then Eph realized that, in expressing it that way, he was already counting himself as having been co-opted as well.

  “Who?”

  This person will reveal themselves to you, in time.

  If another had been compromised and chose to deal with the Master without Eph—then Eph could lose his last, best chance at saving his son.

  Eph felt himself swaying. He felt this enormous tension in his mind. Fighting to keep the Master out, and fighting to keep his doubts in.

  “I … would need a little time with Zack beforehand. Time to explain my actions. To justify them, and to know that he is fine, to tell him—”

  No.

  Eph waited for more. “What do you mean, no? The answer is yes. Make it part of the deal.”

  It is not part of any deal.

  “Not part of any … ?” Eph saw his dismay in the faceplate reflection. “You don’t understand. I can barely even consider doing what you have proposed here. But there is no way—no way in hell—that I go through with this unless I get a guaranteed opportunity to see my boy and know that he is fine.”

  And what you don’t understand is that I have neither patience nor sympathy for your superfluous human emotions.

  “No patience … ?” Eph pointed the tip of his silver sword at the helmet visor in angry disbelief. “Have you forgotten that I have something you want? Something you apparently very desperately need?”

  Have you forgotten that I have your son?

  Eph stepped backward as though shoved. “I can’t believe what I am hearing. Look—this is simple. I’m inches away from saying yes. All I’m asking for is ten goddamned minutes …”

  It is even simpler than that. The book for your boy.

  Eph shook his head. “No. Five minutes—”

  You forget your place, human. I have no respect for your emotional needs and will not make them part of the terms. You will give yourself to me, Goodweather. And you will thank me for the privilege. And every time I look at you for the rest of eternity here on this planet, I will regard your capitulation as representative of the character of your entire race of civilized animals.

  Eph smiled, his crooked mouth like a weird gash across his face, so stunned was he by the creature’s abject heartlessness. It reminded him of what he was up against—what they were all up against—in this cruel and unforgiving new world. And it astounded him how tone-deaf the Master was when it came to human beings.

  In fact, it was this lack of comprehension—this utter inability to feel sympathy—that had caused the Master to underestimate them time and time again. A desperate human is a dangerous human, and this was one truth the Master could not divine.

  “You would like my answer?” asked Eph.

  I have your answer, Goodweather. All I require is your capitulation.

  “Here is my answer.”

  Eph reared back and swung at the proxy vampire standing before him. The silver blade sliced low through the neck, lifting the helmeted head from the shoulders, and Eph no longer had to stare at the reflection of his traitorous self.

  Minimal spray as the body sagged, the caustic white blood pooling on the ancient floor. The helmet clunked and clattered into the corner, rolling around wobblingly before settling on its side.

  Eph had not struck at the Master so much as he had struck at his own shame and his anguish at this no-win situation. He had slain the mouthpiece of temptation in lieu of striking down the temptation itself—an act he knew to be utterly symbolic.

  The temptation remained.

  Footsteps approached from the hallway, and Eph backed away from the decapitated body, at once realizing the consequence of his actions.

  Fet was first inside. Nora followed, stopping short. “Eph! What have you done … ?”

  In isolation, his impetuous attack seemed just. Now the consequences came rushing at him, with new footsteps from the hall: Gus.

  He did not see Eph at first. He was focused on the interior of the cell in which he kept his mother the vampire. He roared and pushed past the other two and saw the headless body collapsed on the floor, its hands still manacled behind its back, the helmet in the corner.

  Gus let out a cry. He drew a knife from his backpack, then rushed at Eph faster than Fet could react. Eph raised his sword at the last moment, to parry Gus’s attack—as a dark blur filled the space between them.

  A starkly white hand gripped Gus’s collar, holding him off. Another hand thrust against Eph’s chest as the hooded being separated them with powerful strength.

  Mr. Quinlan. Dressed in his black hoodie, radiating vampire heat.

  Gus swore and kicked, fighting to get free, his boots a few inches from the ground. Tears of rage flowing freely from his eyes. “Quinlan, let me at this fuck!”

  Slow.

  Mr. Quinlan’s rich baritone invaded Eph’s head.

  “Let me go!” Gus slashed with his knife, but it was little more than a bluff. As furious as Gus was, he still had the presence of mind to respect Mr. Quinlan.

  Your mother is destroyed. It is done. And it is for the best. She was gone a long time ago and what was left—it was no good for you here.

  “But that ch
oice was mine—! What I did or not—my choice!”

  Settle your differences as you wish. But—later. After the final battle.

  Quinlan turned his piercing red eyes toward Gus, glowing hot within the dark shadow of his cotton hood. A royal red, richer than the hue of any natural object Gus had ever seen—even the freshest human blood. More red than the reddest autumn leaf and brighter and deeper than any plumage.

  And yet, even as Quinlan was one-handedly lifting a man from the floor, these eyes were in repose. Gus would not like to see them turned on him in anger. At least for the moment, he held back his attack.

  We can take the Master. But our time is short. We must do it—together.

  Gus pointed past Mr. Quinlan, at Eph. “This junkie is worthless to us. He got the lady doctor caught, he cost me one of my men, and he is a fucking hazard and—worse than that—he’s a curse. This shit is bad luck. The Master has his son and has adopted him and leashed him like a fucking pet.”

  It was Eph’s turn to go after Gus. Mr. Quinlan’s hand quickly came up against Eph’s chest with the restraining force of a steel pole.

  “So tell us,” said Gus, not letting up. “Tell us what that motherfucker was whispering to you in here, just now. You and the Master having a heart-to-heart? I think the rest of us have a right to know.”

  Quinlan’s hand rose and fell with Eph’s deep breaths. Eph stared at Gus, feeling Nora’s and Fet’s eyes on him.

  “Well?” said Gus. “Let’s hear it!”

  “It was Kelly,” said Eph. “Her voice. Taunting me.”

  Gus sneered, spitting into Eph’s face. “Weak-minded piece of shit.”

  Again a scuffle started. Fet and Mr. Quinlan were needed to keep the two men from tearing each other apart.

  “He’s so desperate for the past, he came here to be talked down to,” said Gus. “Some dysfunctional family shit you got going.” To Mr. Quinlan, Gus said, “I tell you, he brings nothing. Let me fucking kill him. Let me get rid of this dead weight.”

  As I said, you may settle this any way you desire. But, after.

  It was apparent to all, even to Eph, that Mr. Quinlan was protecting him for some reason. That he was treating Eph differently than he might have treated the others—which meant that there was something different about Eph.